


Gently Apply Pressure

by aerospaces



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: A bit of daddykink but it's not established really, Bit handwavy, Cheeky Eggsy, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Set during training, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerospaces/pseuds/aerospaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry’s called him into his office shortly after his little fiasco, which always means one of two things: either Eggsy is due for a spanking as punishment for recent behaviour or Harry’s got important news to tell him that can’t wait till dinner. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gently Apply Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> For another prompt on the kingsman kinkmeme, more specifically [this](http://dressing-room3.livejournal.com/405.html?thread=3477#t3477) one: _Eggsy is a cheeky brat. Harry spanks him._  
>  Also it has to be said I’ve never written spanking before. Apologies for the inaccuracies and general wtfery. There's some handwavy but not explicit uh daddykink (which I am tempted to write and will probably will sometime after this) but it's nothing glaring.
> 
> Fill can also be read on tumblr @ [aeronautiques](http://aeronautiques.tumblr.com/post/112509874366/fill-gently-apply-pressure-nsfw-1918-words) | Cheers!

 

 

* * *

 

 

Eggsy’s been bad;he knows he’s been bad. It’s why he’s spread across Harry’s lap with his arsein the air, his fists clenched tightly in the crisp folds of Harry’s trousers. Harry’s called him into his office shortly after his little fiasco, which always means one of two things: either Eggsy is due for a spanking as punishment for recent behaviour or Harry’s got important news to tell him that can’t wait till dinner.

Judging by the unhappy look on Harry’s face, the first variable is more likely.

And Eggsy’s not so  far off the mark, it looks like: the turned down lips, the glass of brandy already half-drunk to the last dredges; the doffed dinner jacket, folded primly over the back of Harry’s seat – all point to the distinct possibility Eggsy about to get a spanking.

Harry’s even loosened his tie for the occasion. Eggsy’s knees go weak at the sight of him in leather braces, his cufflinks undone, carefully set aside on the corner of the desk next to the brandy. Eggsy can’t deny the violent shiver that crawls up his spine when Harry puts his guns away in a locked drawer, sliding the key across the desk before steepling his hands in front of his face. He looks straight at Eggsy with an almost parental disappointment before humming and idly fingering the rim of his drink.

Eggsy almost – almost  _keens_. Watching his fingers move briskly across the edge of the glass.

“Do you know why I’ve called you into my office, Eggsy?”

Eggsy snaps back to attention, dragging his eyes up to meet Harry’s steady gaze. He knows why he’s here but he opts to play dumb. It makes their little game that much sweeter, and besides, he likes playing coy – it gets Harry going, makes him a little more vicious, and a little meaner with his punishment.

So Eggsy shrugs, hunching his shoulders, letting himself into the room without invitation and sitting spread-legged on the seat across from Harry. Harry says nothing for awhile and neither does Eggsy, who affects insolence and more brashness than he feels while currently trapped in the same room as Harry Hart.

And then Harry pats his laps without a word, nodding at Eggsy to come forward. Eggsy swallows, raising his eyebrows, pretending he doesn’t know what Harry’s on about. He wants the command to come from Harry. Prompting him into action is always a bad idea but Eggsy’s always been able to take whatever Harry can give him. He’s learning. All he needs is a little more time.

“Eggsy,” Harry sighs, long suffering as he rolls his eyes heavenward “On my knee,  _boy_ , or would you rather I haul you over my lap myself like some petulant little child?”

Eggsy huffs, dragging his feet across the carpet until he’s standing in front of Harry, hands stuffed inside his pockets, chin lifted proudly. When he kneels, he makes sure not to break eye-contact. He lets out an undignified squawk when Harry drags him unceremoniously over his knee, tugging Eggsy’s trousers over his arse in one swift move that pulls Eggsy’s underwear along with the motion, baring his bum to the cold of the room and making him hiss.

 _So much for pride_ , Eggsy thinks wryly, as Harry smoothes a hand over the swell of his arse, assessing, probably, the depth of punishment that ought to be inflicted. “I ought to use a paddle on you,” Harry muses out loud. “You never seem to learn, do you?”

Eggsy is about to parry with a clever retort, but then Harry’s hand comes swiftly down the skin of his arse and then he can only yelp. The first swat is always a surprise, and Eggsy nearly bites off his tongue when Harry delivers a few more licks in rapid succession. He can feel the bite of Harry’s signet ring stinging his tingling skin, the creases of Harry’s palm made rough by calluses.

Eggsy’s arse must be pretty pink by now, the skin raising in welts where Harry’s swatted at him the hardest; his whole body jolts each time Harry delivers a blow, and Eggsy grunts, half-sobbing, as he mentally counts each smack. The sound of Harry’s palm connecting with his raised arse fills the otherwise still room and Eggsy’s breath steams his face until his face is livid with colour.

“You’ve jeopardized all that I’ve done for you,” Harry says, sounding a bit breathless with every word. “And for what? To get even?”

The force of his spanking is enough to buoy Eggsy forward each time, and Eggsy squirms uncomfortably when Harry’s hand lands open-handed against his left arse cheek. It hurts, though he doesn’t know if it’s the humiliation that makes his eyes start to tear up. He glances up and catches sight of their reflection in the mirror Harry has installed precisely for this reason, and lets out a little sob at the picture they make: Harry with his face all ruddy in reprimand, Eggsy with his bum in the air and his trousers pooled around his ankles. His hands are fisted in Harry’s trousers, and his cap has rolled across the floor. He looks well-fucked even though Harry has barely touched his cock, his eyes bright with tears and his hair mussed and peaking.

Eggsy sniffs as Harry swats at his arse again, and it feels good, like he’s being absolved, like Harry is cleansing him of every bad thought he’s ever had. His cock so hard it’s starting to leak across the carpet, and then all of a sudden Harry is stilling his hand.

“Despicable behaviour, Eggsy,” Harry says, though his voice has gone softer now, almost honeyed. “Haven’t I taught you better?”

Eggsy stutters, needing to find the words. He wants to explain, to tell Harry to his face:  _I did it for you._ Charlie had kept going on and on about Harry being Eggsy’s  _sugar daddy_ , about Harry being a dirty old man who liked to stick his prick in throwaways like Eggsy. Eggsy’s fist still stings from punching Charlie’s smug face, and he’d do it again if he could, break that wanker’s nose if he could.

But he’s well past the point of speech now, with Harry stroking his arsecheeks with feather-light touches as if he could somehow intuit Eggsy’s thoughts. Eggsy wants to ride him until bloody Sunday, or else be spread across the neat pattern of his carpet and fucked until he’s bowlegged. He wants everything Harry can give him: his mouth, his fingers, his cock, until his desire consumes him completely and ruins him for anyone else.

“’M sorry,” Eggsy mumbles, head drooping forward. He lets out a shaky noise as Harry’s hand continues its descent down the crease of his thigh. He widens his stance a little bit, allowing Harry to stroke his perineum with a long-fingered caress.

Eggsy shudders, his toes curling as Harry traces the line of his spine with a heavy hand.

“Louder, Eggsy,” Harry admonishes, squeezing him on the hip. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Eggsy clenches his teeth together, whimpering as Harry starts to tease his hole. Harry spreads his thumb across the tight little furl of muscle, pushing forward until Eggsy’s body gives with a quiet shudder. He feels too easy, like this, bent over Harry’s lap like a naughty little boy needing a sound spanking. He wriggles in Harry’s lap, making unholy noises, wanting Harry inside him, wanting him to put his cock where Eggsy’s been empty for weeks.

“I’ve been—I’ve been naughty,  _sir,_ ” Eggsy babbles, rocking his prick against Harry’s thigh.He knows Harry likes it when Eggsy calls him  _sir_ because he’s a massive pervert that gets off on things like spanking, the repressed git, but he’s Eggsy’s pervert, and Charlie has no right calling him out on the things Harry likes to do behind closed doors, rumour or not.

 _“—I’m sorry, sir,_ ” Eggsy says, and if his voice hiccups just a bit neither of them says anything about it. “But I ain’t doin’ it again, I swear. I just – he was calling you names,  _sir_. He called you a dirty word. I’m sorry!”

“Oh Eggsy,” Harry sighs. Eggsy warms just a little bit from his tone. “You foolish foolish little boy. Just look at you,” Harry clucks his tongue, stroking the mounds of his arse lightly. “Have you learned your lesson?”

Eggsy nods earnestly, rubbing his fists into his eyes and trembling as Harry runs his knuckles across the side of his neck. He can hardly say anything, well past the point of speech when Harry starts examining him with clinical efficiency, his long dexterous fingers brushing Eggsy’s perineum, rubbing up his hole, lingering across the back of his thighs, stroking the evidence of his punishment tenderly, a hand cupped over Eggsy’s sensitized arse.

Eggsy clenches involuntarily, moaning at the insistent press of Harry’s thumb until his body swallows it greedily, down to the first knuckle. Harry moves his thumb in slow little circles that drive Eggsy absolutely mad.

Eggsy lifts his hips, pushing up his arse, showing Harry just how much he needs it when Harry pulls out his finger abruptly.

“What the fuck Harry? Why’d you stop?”

“Language, Eggsy,” Harry says, giving him a reproaching look. He nudges Eggsy gently on the hip, motioning him toward the desk. “Now, I want to see you with your hands flat on the desk and your arse up. There’s a good boy. Higher please, Eggsy, spread your legs for me. Show me how red those cheeks are.”

Eggsy moans, head thumping forward on the desk as he leans forward on his elbows. He wriggles his arse in Harry’s direction and gets a playful swat in return. Eggsy arches up, gasping at the smarting sting, and just to be cheeky, reaches right behind himself to spread his cheeks with his thumbs. He hears Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and smirks at him over his shoulder, listing his arse from side to side in a taunt he knows Harry would be hard-pressed to resist.

“Oh, sir,” he breathes, doing a terrible posh accent. “Won’t you put your cock in me, please? Look at how tight that hole is. Don’t you want to teach me a lesson?”

Harry lets out a growl and then he’s wrapping a hand around Eggsy’s neck, dragging him up for a wet open-mouthed kiss that Eggsy returns with just a little bit of teeth. Eggsy hears him uncapping the bottle of lubricant with his other hand, freeing his prick with a clink of belt buckle and a sharp hiss of his zipper.

“ _Yessss_ ,” he moans, “Yes, fuck me, I’ll be your good boy.”

Harry fucks Eggsy with two fingers, just enough prep to make Eggsy squirm and whimper each time Harry manages to brush his fingers across his prostate. It burns when he presses his prick to Eggsy’s hole, the stretch hot and achy but making Eggsy’ toes curl into the carpet.

Harry keeps one hand curled around Eggsy’s hip, while he braces himself against the desk, his palm squeaking on the redwood finish with every thrust, his mouth moving across Eggsy’s neck. Fast and deep, just how Eggsy likes it, just how he needs it, their bodies moving in a rapid sinuous wave. He feels every inch of Harry perfectly, the hot drag of his stiff prick making Eggsy drool across his desk. It’s wonderful, getting fucked like this; he feels wholly surrendered, every never ending on fire as Harry takes and takes and takes.

Harry surges up, rocking him forward, and then he’s pumping Eggsy’s cock in time with his thrusts, giving it to him good and –

“Harry,” Eggsy hisses, whimpering now and clenching his fists against the desk. “Yeah, Harry, fuck me,  _fuck me._ Fuck your boy – give it to me hard, Harry—”  

It takes so little to drive them both over the edge. The desk shudders with their movement, and Eggsy comes with a hoarse noise, sagging forward on his elbows, his legs shaky like a newborn colt’s. Harry’s still hard inside him but he pulls out with a soft groan and takes himself in hand, pushing Eggsy’s shirt up over his back before coating Eggsy’s shoulder blades with thick ropes of his come. He sighs once he finishes and drops unceremoniously into his seat, the cushion squeaking under his weight.

Eggsy glances at him over his shoulder. He looks utterly debauched: legs spread, zipper undow. His tie is all crooked, his face covered in a light sheen of sweat. Harry smiles, wry, folding up his glasses and setting it aside, before patting his knee in a beckoning gesture.

Eggsy rolls his eyes but complies.

“You shouldn’t have hit him,” Harry says, finally, when Eggsy’s settled against him, having wiped his back clean with a wad of tissues. It still makes him feel irrationally ridiculous, quite like a child, when Harry holds him afterwards like this and murmurs softly against his hairline; he’s minutely aware of their age difference, of the vast well of experience Harry has over him.

“He was being a knobhead,” Eggsy says, without any real heat. “He deserves the broken nose.”

“ _Eggsy_ ,” Harry says warningly, but there’s a fond almost warm register to his voice. Eggsy tugs idly at Harry’s braces, hooking his fingers into the expensive leather as he runs his hands deftly up Harry’s chest. He settles his palms on Harry’s shoulders and looks at him seriously.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a solemn nod. “I’ll break something else of his next time, yeah?”

At Harry’s derisive snort, Eggsy grins and tugs him forward by the tie. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” he promises, laughing, slotting his mouth over Harry’s. Harry squeezes the globes of his arse gently.

Both of them know that’s far from the truth.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
